Older & Wiser
by CorvusCorvidae
Summary: They weren't together anymore, but that didn't stop the endless addiction they had for the other. Eventually, one of them was going to have to grow up and call it quits, or pluck up the courage to ask for more; but neither looked likely with the stupidity of youth hanging over their heads. AU. One-shot.


*0*0*

Older & Wiser

*0*0*

Louisville to New Haven really wasn't the worst when it came to distance in a long distance relationship. Hell, you knew of at least three people whose partners were on the other side of the world, on different continents. So whatever made Louisville and New Haven so difficult, you didn't know.

Okay, maybe you did know. Maybe you could see it. Maybe you could tell where the cracks were beginning to show, and were powerless to do anything about it. Quinn was in the same boat, though. She knew, she saw, just like you, and still, with the warning signs showing, neither of you opted to save the sinking ship of a relationship you were in.

Knowing you were both at fault, that did make it easier to swallow, but not by much. Because after all, she was there, you weren't, and you'd pushed past the barriers of friendship that you were certain you couldn't get back again. There was just no way, not after what you'd seen, what you'd learnt.

From the way her back arched up, her fingers gripping at the sheets as she came to the way she looked at you when she thought you were being charming. All of it, it changed your view of Quinn. She wasn't the girl you knew in high school. She wasn't just a friend. She was more, so much more, and she had been for years, whether you wanted to accept that or not.

So to see your relationship with her slowly but surely fall apart, it hurt. It wasn't what you wanted, and you really didn't know how bad it was until it was too late, but still. That didn't change the fact that the two of you went from spending each weekend in the other's bed to hardly speaking to her all week.

The first time you missed a Skype date, she was understandable. The second time, she was annoyed. The third time, she was pissed. The fourth, she was done. She'd had enough. If you weren't even going to show, then she wasn't going to bother trying.

Her reactions were all perfectly understandable, and you apologised and promised to do better. However, the excuses were always the same, and after a while, they weren't doing it anymore. Nor were your words.

You had a busy schedule. But so did she, and yet she found the time to be there for the Skype dates. It annoyed you to no end, because you hated missing them, you hated missing her, but there was nothing you could do at that moment in time.

Louisville might not have been the most exciting place in the world, but it was your chance to do something with yourself for the next four years. You had a scholarship which meant as long as you met their requirements, you could find yourself, as it were. You didn't have the pressure of life weighing you down. You didn't have the stress of bills and rent and medical insurance that you couldn't afford and finding a job and having to become an adult overnight. College was giving you the chance to grow, to grow up at a steady pace, and you needed that.

So you had to get involved. You had to go out with the other girls on the squad. You had to get involved in whatever event they were hosting that week. You had to talk to the people in your classes. You had to go to this party or that party. You had to be seen to be heard and that meant turning up.

It also meant putting your girlfriend on the backburner, but you thought she'd be okay with that. You thought she'd be doing the same. You thought you knew better.

You didn't.

*0*0*

Quinn's lips were the forbidden fruit you so longed to taste.

She was off limits, as friends, she was definitely off limits. Bt that didn't stop you fantasizing about them. Her lips, her smile, her eyes, the way she would look at you, and okay, maybe that wasn't the usual fantasy your mind would entertain, but there was just something about Quinn, and you were powerless to stop yourself from thinking about it, thinking about her.

So those lips, those lips you longed to taste, to have against yourself, to feel on your body, they were torturing you as she lectured on about god only knows what. If she looked at you for one second she would know you weren't there, you weren't really listening, and while that was a shitty move on your part, you couldn't care because her lips.

"I really just don't understand why that system is in place if everyone is just going to abuse it. And don't get me started on the reporting procedures, because I checked, and it's not worth the hassle even attempting to point out faults. They're so narrow minded and their heads are so far up their asses that - that...that I think it would be great to call Rachel up here and maybe finally get that threesome started on that we joked about in high school. What do you think?"

You knew there was a question in there somewhere, and rather than alert her to your fantasizing, you just agreed anyway.

"Yeah, definitely." you murmured, still enhanced by her lips, still oblivious; only this time oblivious to her new look, the newly formed frown across her brow as it took you in.

"You're staring," Quinn stated, and what?

"Huh?"

"You're staring at me." You were going to lie, but then she licked her lips and you ended up frowning in annoyance because that was just mean. "Oh my God, you are!" Quinn cried, shocked. "What is wrong with you?" she asked, looking at you once again like you had grown an extra head or something.

"Nothing, fuck off," you barked back, not wanting her to realise anything was amiss. As if she hadn't realised already.

"Santana, what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing! God! Can't I just listen to you for a change?" Quinn crossing her arms and practically glaring told you that you had miscalculated along the way and just screwed up.

"Yeah, you could, if you were actually listening," she shot back.

"I was listening." So not true.

"I suggested we have a threesome with Rachel and you didn't bat an eyelid. You were too busy staring at me to even hear me." Quinn waved her arms up as if to say, how the fuck could you miss that, and gave you a pointed look.

Yeah, you'd definitely screwed up.

"Shit, a threesome?" You were sure you would have heard that. "With Rachel?" You asked, frowning deeper now.

"I figured she would pull you out of your creepy staring but it didn't work. So what were you staring at?"

"Nothing."

"You've said that three times now, and I didn't buy it the first time you said it, so why are you still saying it? What were you staring at?" she asked again, and ugh, why couldn't she just let it go?

"What does it matter?"

That, as it turned out, seemed to be a good question, because Quinn couldn't give a response, and for that you were thankful. She paused, thinking over a response, leaving you to pull yourself together and pretend like the last ten minutes had never happened.

Only, Quinn wasn't going to let that happen, of course.

While you had been happily seated on her dorm bed, watching her pace back and forth, with her hands waving and flying about as she spoke, or ranted, rather, you had hoped that the distance between the two of you would remain. It was your safety net, because those lips, those amazing lips of hers were calling out to you, and you were not going to be that creepy loser who acted on it. But no, no, Quinn had a mind of her own, and she decided that enough was enough. Promptly sitting down next to you on the bed, shuffling backwards until her back was against the wall next to yours, and turned to you.

"What had you so mesmerised?" she asked, softly this time, as if not wanting to startle a wild animal.

"I can't tell you," you confessed, already feeling weaker in your resolve just by her presence. Fucking weakling.

"You can't or you won't?" Quinn replied.

"You'll be pissed if I do," you added, knowing that was the truth. Nothing good could come from telling her.

"Try me." Quinn challenged, cocking her eyebrow, and once again, licking her lips. It was as if she knew.

"I want to kiss you, I've been thinking about kissing you for the last hour, and I can't stop. So there, that's what has me mesmerised, you. You have me mesmerised, you, your lips, your...everything. Now, slap me or something to knock it out of me, and we can go back to normal." You rolled your eyes for good measure, as if that was a burden to say, and then waited for the inevitable slap that was destined for you.

Only, it never came.

Instead, you felt Quinn's hand reach out and gently turn your face so you were looking at her again.

"Kiss me." she said, simply, looking at you in a way you were definitely not used to.

"What?" you tried not to sound like a terrified child as you spoke, but that was a lost cause.

"Kiss me," Quinn said again, licking her lips in anticipation.

Christ.

You could feel your heart thumping wildly in your chest, your breathing speed up, and all of a sudden your throat was dry. Swallowing back the lump, you took a deep breath and blinked a few times, as if this was a hallucination you could not entertain.

"Santana, will you please just kiss me already." Quinn barked, and God, that shouldn't have been as hot as it was.

So, for a change, you finally did what Quinn asked of you. You slowly, carefully, leaned closer, giving her the chance to back out, and not trusting that this was not some test where she was then going to slap you for even attempting to kiss her. But no slap came, it was only her, who slowly moved closer too, until your forehead was resting on hers, until you were breathing in the air she was exhaling, before you could practically taste her, just a few millimeters away. It was killer.

Giving her one last chance, you accepted her gaze as one of agreement, and closed the distance, finally kissing those lips you had longed for, finally feeling them against your own, finally having them kissing you back. It was unreal, it was more than you thought possible for a simple kiss, and it was making your heartbeat out your chest and your need for air increase. She was intoxicating, she was more than you imagined, she was kissing you back like this was a need and not a want.

But you needed to breathe.

Breaking the kiss, you took a gasp of breath, and then anticipated the slap, but Quinn's lips were back on yours, barely giving you a chance to take a catch your breath at all, and then she was leaning closer, turning her body so she could push you back to lie on the bed, with her on top of you, and good lord, this was so much better than expected.

"Q-" you began, pulling back again, wondering why in lord's name you were stopping this, but also knowing you had slept with your best friend before and how it blow up in your face, so you needed to be careful, you needed her to know the risks, too.

"Don't talk, just...stop talking." Quinn said, shaking her head, her eyes so full of lust you felt it shiver up your spine.

Fuck.

Nodding, you agreed not to talk. Not to say anything. Just to let her lead. And that was definitely one of the best decisions you had ever made.

*0*0*

Weeks of miscommunication, weeks of blowing each other off, weeks of missed opportunities and it was all coming to a head. You didn't realise the weight of what was going on until you opened your email one evening after a busy day of classes, and then it felt like someone had dropped an anvil on your chest.

_I think we both know this is for the best. _

That was all you could see, the subject, but it was enough.

God how could you even open it? It was sitting there, in your email, like a ticking time bomb, waiting to go off. But the damage had already been done because you knew what it said, you knew what was awaiting you. You could feel it in your chest, in the agony of your heart and the tears in your eyes.

How could you read the words that brought it all to an end?

And yes, it made sense, because it wasn't working any more. It wasn't what it was, what it used to be, your lives didn't complement each other anymore, and love was not enough. But reading it, reading those final words, they'd be your undoing.

Just cause it didn't work out didn't mean it wasn't going to hurt. Cause fuck, it was hurting. It was excruciating, and you were crying before you even opened the damn thing. How could you? How could you accept these words as the end?

You loved her, you loved her, you loved her, but that wasn't enough for this situation, and you hated yourself for that, because you wanted it to be. You wanted her, you wanted to make it work, but she was there and you were here, and she was tired of being second, and you needed time to find yourself.

You weren't ready, you weren't ready, you weren't ready for this, for the end, for the rest of the pain that would occur when you finally saw how she so politely and kindly said what you were too fucking scared to.

And oh God, you were sure you were going to be sick from the tears, from the sobbing, and fuck, you couldn't do it. You couldn't read it. You couldn't admit it was over.

It had been for weeks, it had been doomed for so long, but you couldn't. You couldn't. You needed Quinn. You needed her support, her love, and her. Everything you'd been up to, all the parties, all the get togethers, none of them seemed worth it, none of them were worth it now.

How could you find yourself when the one person who saw everything you could be, saw all your potential, would be gone? How could you say goodbye to her? How could you go on without her?

Soon enough, you were going to have to find out.

*0*0*

Finding yourself amongst the tears and tissues and netflix and empty take out boxes was hard. You'd ended up a pathetic mess, a foolish pathetic mess who was still hopelessly in love with someone who needed more, someone you'd never be with, and someone who was excelling at Yale, with a pretty girl on her arm and smile upon her lips.

Damn Facebook.

You were stuck, stuck in the memories, in the thoughts of her lips against yours and her laughter in your ears. You were stuck, stuck dreaming about what could have been if you had just tried harder, stuck imagining all the different ways you could have been better for her. You were simply stuck, stuck in the past, stuck in the heartbreak, stuck on her.

And for months, you remained stuck, remained hung up, and unable to move on. It truly was pathetic, but try as you might, you weren't able to simply move on like she was. The same had happened with Brittany, so you shouldn't have been surprised, and your friends weren't. Well, you say friends, but really, you meant Kurt and Rachel, who had taken what seemed like an unhealthy interest in your wellbeing all of a sudden. You could only think that Quinn had said something, had pushed them to, and for whatever reason, they were listening to her.

Of course, with this stall in your life, you put all the things that had been holding your relationship back with Quinn on hold. You stopped the parties, you stopped the constant activities. You told yourself you were finding yourself, but really, you were drowning in the past that you couldn't escape. It was highly unfair. She broke up with you, fuck this whole mutual thing and knowing best because now you were pissed, she had broke you and you didn't know how to fix yourself. Never mind that you were at fault for the break up. Never mind that you could have saved yourself all the heartache.

It was so much easier to blame Quinn.

And that's how you started to heal yourself. Quinn's fault. Everything was Quinn's fault. Bird crapped on a car, Quinn's fault. Forgot your keys, Quinn's fault. Door says push and you pull, Quinn's fault. There was no logic, no rhyme or reason, but it worked. Until one day, nothing was Quinn's fault, and she wasn't even a blip on the radar.

Fuck knows how you did it, but you did. You got her out your system, and that was the best news you'd had since the break up. It meant you could 'find yourself again. And you did.

You learnt more of who you were, what you liked, what you didn't, what you wanted from life. The latter question was the most dangerous one, but it was also the only question you pondered, or were even willing to think about, when completely plastered. You needed to be drunk. You needed to be three sheets to the wind to accept that fact that the one thing you wanted was Quinn. But no.

Louisville had plenty of distractions, plenty of nameless girls who were looking to get lost in a stranger's kiss, and you were there for them, you were there to be that stranger, to be their first lesbian experience, to be the experiment, you were fine with it all because it allowed there to be a warm body in your bed, and make you feel something other than a longing that you couldn't shake.

You were over her, you were, but you still longed for what was, and that was going to take some getting used to. But the girls helped, they gave you something more than classes, parties, and the social activities you were sticking with. Cheerleading wasn't as nearly as atrocious as it had been in high school, which was another escape, another something you were happy for, but of course, your Captain wasn't there, wasn't leading you to victory, and you were at the bottom of the totem pole, missing the blonde whose bark was a familiar calling of your cheerleading days, and who constantly found herself making her way in your thoughts. One day, you were sure you'd forget her, but as time went on, that seemed harder than you thought.

So you stopped trying, maybe that would make it easier. You stopped caring if you thought about her, or if you longed for her again, you just stopped caring. This was who you were, pathetically hung up on someone you hadn't spoken to in months, in almost a year, but what did it matter. One day, you'd get over her, like you had Brittany, it would just take time.

*0*0*

One New Year's later, you were walking into Rachel and Kurt's loft, carrying a bottle of wine and giving them smiles like you had been best friends in highschool. They hugged you, because they hug, and you endured it, because you hadn't been hugged in so long, and okay, so maybe there was apart of you that was glad to be there.

It had been an impromptu invite, a last minute thing, but Louisville was grating on your nerves that week, and this escape was exactly what you needed. So you got your crap together and hopped on a train, with plans to crash on their couch for the night before heading back home in the following day.

The party itself was in celebration of Kurt scoring some internship, and since Rachel never needed an excuse to throw a party, they were all there. To you, it was another night to drink, to hang out with those that had been there in the aftermath of Quinn, who helped you piece back together, and to enjoy yourself in the company of those that understood you better than anyone else.

So with a beer in hand, you were listening to some redhead telling you all about her pre-med classes down in Georgia, and you had no clue how she knew either Rachel or Kurt, but weren't that surprised. They knew everyone, it seemed, from all walks of life, and this girl was no different. Well, she was, because she was flirting, and that was a nice ego boost that you hadn't been anticipating, and with a charming smile, you were going to keep the flirting up, show her you were definitely interested, too, but then someone was manhandling you away to a corner in the kitchen, and what the fuck?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Rachel said, holding her hands up, looking really guilty, and you had no clue why. "I didn't...I thought she wasn't coming," Rachel went on to add, and you turned towards the door to see what she was referring to.

Oh.

You thought it would hurt less when you saw her again, but you were wrong. It was as if your heart was breaking all over again, cracking open the poorly healed wounds and spilling poison into your system.

Fuck.

"I am really sorry, Santana. I can- I can-" Shaking your head, you cut Rachel off.

"Don't be. We were bound to be around each other again at some point." You shot her a small smile, as if to say it was fine. It wasn't, but she felt bad enough as it was, and you didn't want to make it worse. "What you should be sorry for is ruining my chances at getting laid tonight," you joked, and Rachel gave you a weak smile back, before frowning.

"You're not having sex on my couch." And with that, she left you to your own devices, knowing that she had to say hello to Quinn, and whoever was holding her hand.

Sipping your beer again, you pretended like this was normal. That seeing your ex and her new girlfriend was an everyday occurrence. Slowly but surely, the lies you'd tell yourself would get easier. They had to, because you couldn't deal with this level of pain like it was nothing.

The redhead came back, all smiles and full of confidence, picking up right where the two of you left off. You were happy for the distraction, for the easy feeling of having someone's attention, but then, it wasn't just the redhead's attention you had. You could feel eyes on you, you could feel someone watching your every move, and it was testing your patience.

"I'll be right back," you murmured in the redhead's ear, giving her a sultry smile and heading towards the door. She didn't follow, thank god, but someone else did.

The music could still be heard from the other side of the door, and you leaned against the wall, just waiting. You knew she was coming, you knew she was following you, and then the door opened, making the unmistakable rattling noise as it did, and low and behold, there she was.

"Hi," you said, catching her off guard as she closed the door behind her, not expecting you to still be in the hallway.

"Hi," Quinn replied, and it was like a million memories just washed all over you, pulling you under, drowning you, forcing you to take a deep breath and breathe.

Given that she followed you, you weren't going to make it easy for her. She was going to have to make the next step, to fill the silence, and in typical Quinn fashion, she went for the smalltalk. Anything to avoid the big issues. But then again, this smalltalk seemed to be laced with an ulterior motive.

"Your girlfriend seems nice," she said, giving you a polite smile, which you definitely weren't used to.

"Who?" you frowned, wondering what she was talking about. There hadn't been a girlfriend in so long it was bordering on pathetically sad.

"The redhead," Quinn replied, raising her eyebrows in question.

"I just met her tonight."

"Oh. Right." The polite thing would have been to compliment her girlfriend, too, but you were no saint, and you really didn't give a flying fuck about her girlfriend. So you remained silent, and the silence dragged on.

"You're staring," you stated, sounding more gruff about that fact than you wanted. "You've been staring all night."

"I wasn't expecting you to be here," Quinn murmured, moving a little closer, so she was leaning against the wall next to you. "How...how have you been? I haven't been keeping up to date with things, but have you been well?"

"Really, Q? Really? We haven't seen each other in over a year and you want to know how I've been?"

"Well what else would I want?" she asked back, frowning.

"You tell me." You knew it would start an argument, but you felt you were overdue for one, and of course, Quinn wouldn't back down from one.

"What's that supposed to mean?" her voice was laced with accusation, and you ate it up.

"Why'd you follow me out here?" Quinn pursed her lips, and you knew you were onto something. "Better question, why'd you follow me out here when you thought I had a girlfriend, when you have a girlfriend?" You raised your eyebrows in question, and waited, but she refused to say anything.

Opening your mouth to speak again, you were cut off, cut off in the best way, with her lips against yours, a groan coming from her as she pushed you back into the wall, hard.

"Don't talk, just...stop talking," Quinn said, shaking her head, and you were right back in her dorm room, surrendering yourself to her. Only this time, you knew better, and you weren't going to let her lead.

So instead, you fucked her in the hallway, outside Rachel's apartment, with her girlfriend on twenty feet away, and it was as addicting as it was when the two of you were together. You hadn't forgotten her, her likes, her wants, her needs, and your body responded to her like the last time you two were together was yesterday.

Quinn's nails scratched at the back of your neck as you sucked on her neck, leaving her a bigger mess to clean up when her girlfriend finally wised up, with your fingers thrusting in and out of her open thighs, one high on your hip, the other holding her up, but you could feel her knee giving way.

Too bad, because you didn't have the strength to hold her up, and fuck, you had missed this, missed her, missed her touch, those lips, kissing you hard, pulling you from her neck and moaning in her throat as she drowned you in all that was her.

When she tightened around you, bucked harder against you, pulled you closer and moaned low in her throat, throwing her head back against the wall, you felt a new dose of adrenaline shoot through your body, high from her, from her response and her touch and fuck, you had forgotten how addicting this was, how addicting she was.

And then she came down from her own high, and your hand was pushed away, and you were made to take a step back so she could straighten her clothes out again. Shame she couldn't wipe the hickey off her neck the same way she wiped your kiss off her lips with the back of her hand.

"We shouldn't have done that." She was right, like usual, but all you could see was the way she fell apart moments ago and frankly, you didn't give a fuck whether you should have done that or not because it was fucking glorious.

Instead of saying anything, you gave her the space she required, and waited for her next move. It didn't take long, and then the mask was back in place, as if that little tryst had never happened.

"I need to get back to my girlfriend," she said, a brief moment of shame crossing her face for a second.

"Say hi to her for me," you added, changing her frown into a glare, now aimed your way. But all you could do was smirk, because as much as she didn't want to admit it, she had wanted you. There was no way she would have let things progress that far if she hadn't. So no, you weren't going to accept her glare or the shame she was trying to shake off.

You were nothing but proud, and that should have been worrying, but it wasn't. Not yet.

"Nice hickey, by the way," you finished, heading back into the apartment, back to the redhead who practically lit up as you saw her, and back to normality where Quinn was not a part of your life.

*0*0*

Your Quinn free bubble didn't last as long as you had hoped it would have.

You thought one last fuck would have been enough, enough to shake her from your system, but it wasn't. If anything, it fed and addiction you weren't ready for. It made things worse, and while you refused to contact her in any shape or form, you knew that when the situation arose to be around her again, you'd jump at it.

And you did.

For whatever reason, Quinn was in Louisville, and that was invitation enough when you found out. So with your best matching set of undies, the ones that made your tits look phenomenal, and your ass the next holy grail, you threw on an easy access dress and bullied Quinn's hotel room address out of Rachel via text.

She wanted details, she was worried you were going to do something rash. You were, but not what she was thinking. So to shut her up, to stop her from blowing up your phone every two seconds in the cab ride over, you sent her back the truth, and that seemed to do the trick.

_I'm going to fuck her brains out. _

Rachel clearly thought you were lying your ass off, or were done being serious and didn't want to put up with you anymore, as she stopped after that. And just in time, because you arrived in no time, quickly paying the driver, and getting out.

The nerves were beginning to kick in, but all it took was one memory, of Quinn following you out of Rachel's apartment, of her kissing you in the hallway, of her letting you slide your hand up her skirt, under her underwear, and through her wetness, that boosted your confidence.

One elevator ride later, you were standing outside her door, knocking gently and stepping away from the keyhole so she couldn't see. It only took a second, and then the door was opening.

"What-?" Quinn was rendered speechless upon seeing you, and that was exactly the reaction you were going for.

"You owe me an orgasm," you said, as if that was reason enough for you to be there.

It was, apparently, because Quinn waved you in, still looking lost, but also like this was a dream come true, and then she wasted no time ridding you of your clothes.

You had forgotten how good her mouth was, her tongue, her lips were, and with her head buried between your thighs, scraping your nails across her scalp, you could accept that maybe you were playing with fire. But then she was sucking on your clit, curling her fingers, and fuck, there was just no way you could have been expected to think rationally when she was giving you one of the best orgasms of your life.

The college experiments and random hook ups had nothing on this girl. She knew your body like the back of her hand, and for that, you were thankful. However, in your text, you had said you were going to fuck Quinn's brains out, and after giving her a moment to catch her breath, you intended to do just that.

Topping Quinn was always mesmerising, but especially so when it had been so damn long since you'd had her like this; with your fingers thrusting into her, using your body to power such actions, and seeing her throw her head back, panting hard, crying out, her eyes squeezed shut, nails scratching into your back, and feeling her leg that was hoisted over your waist pulling you closer.

It was mesmerising. Everything about her was mesmerising. It always had been, only now you were an addict, getting your high, in the hopes it would last you longer this time, so you didn't need to relapse, didn't need to feel her touch, have her kiss, to feel anything at all.

In the afterglow, before you had the energy to grab your shit and get out of there, and before she had kicked you out, you listened to her moment of weakness, and briefly contemplated it.

"Should we have tried harder?" Quinn asked, her naked body lying next to yours, her finger gently caressing your naked hip.

You turned your head and looked at her for a moment, taking in her words, taking in her, before shaking your head.

"We did the best we could. It wasn't meant to work out." That was the lie you told yourself, so there was no issue telling her it, too.

"I guess you're right."

You weren't, but that was that. Case closed. And it was the reality check you needed to get out of there, with your heart still in one piece, because you couldn't risk entertaining such thoughts.

Only, you were in New York a few weeks later, and so was she, and given there wasn't a lot of room at Rachel's, you had gotten a room this time. A night of drinking with everyone, enjoying each other's company, and then one kiss on the sidewalk outside the bar was enough to have her following you back to your room.

This time, you went down on her, losing yourself in everything she had to offer, and accepting the fact that you were weak. She was your drug of choice; and she knew it. And because she was Quinn, you didn't kick her out right away. You let her lie next to you, curled up under the sheets, watching you.

"What is it?" you asked, needing to know what she was staring at, what she was thinking about.

"We could…we would be better this time," Quinn began, and your body froze. "We're a little older and somewhat wiser and-"

"And stop talking," you grunted, moving so you were leaning over her, kissing her hard.

You knew this. You knew you were older, you knew you were wiser, you knew that if you tried you could really make it work. But she was there and you weren't, and that had destroyed the two of you once, so what was to say it wouldn't happen again? Could you take that risk? Could you put yourself back out there?

No, so until then, you'd keep doing whatever the two of you were doing; meeting up for sex, ignoring all your feelings, the usual.

*0*0*

Meeting up for sex came easier and easier as time wore on. How, you didn't know, but somehow you two found yourself in the same city, same area, at least once every two weeks. It fed the addiction. It fed the need and lust for her, and tied you over until the next time.

And every time, every time it happened, the two of you always said, never again. That would be the last time. But it never was. It never could be. Because two days would pass and then she'd be on your mind again, and you'd need to talk to her, to arrange the next meet up, and just like that your life was revolving around when you got to fuck Quinn Fabray.

The only downside to all this was right after. After the orgasms, the heavy breathing, the racing heartbeats, after the haze had cleared, Quinn would speak, and you would freeze. It was like clockwork, and this time was definitely no different.

"I think the universe is trying to tell us something," Quinn murmured against your skin, and while you wanted to believe her, your body reacted on autopilot, and told you that no, it definitely couldn't be.

"If it is, it needs to be a little more clear with its messages." This time, you felt her body freeze.

"Because us ending up in bed together isn't clear enough?" No, it showed that you were weak, but only for sex, sex with her, nothing else.

"No. It tells me we can fuck, which we do really well, but doesn't tell me if you're the only one I should be fucking." It was easier to pretend you didn't see the flinch cross Quinn's features. It was easier to pretend that you were fucking other people, despite that not being the case. It was easier to blame the universe for being vague than to admit she could break you, she had broken you, and giving her that power again was terrifying.

"This is the last time," Quinn said, later, when you were getting ready to leave.

"Last time," you repeated, nodding, before giving her a parting smile and heading out.

Only, this time, when she had said it, you genuinely thought it might just be the last time. There was a sadness in her eyes you weren't used to, a tiredness that was not from the rigours of sex, and it briefly frightened you. But then again, the two of you had a routine, and you doubted that would change.

*0*0*

The next time, she came to you, knocking on your door at one in the morning, with an easy smile and a mesmerising lick of her lips. You didn't know what she was doing in Louisville, you didn't know how she got your address, you didn't know what was going on, but you didn't even hesitate before nodding your head to allow her in, accepting her charming grin and then the bite of her lip, and God, you were powerless.

It took less than a second for you to have your hands on her waist, your lips against hers, and moving her backwards, through the apartment, to the nearest hard surface or bed; whatever one you found first.

"We've got to stop doing like this," Quinn laughed, her hands pulling your body into hers, making you groan.

"One of these days, we'll stop." You kissed her hard, sinking into her embrace, wrapping your arms around her neck, keeping her close to you. She kissed you back, again, and again, and then pulled away as far as your arms would allow.

"We say that every time," Quinn countered. And you did, and both of you knew it was a lie, but it was safer. It was safer believing that one day you'd stop being addicted to those lips of hers, stop being addicted to her, than the alternative; being caught up in the endless cycle of kisses, touches, and Quinn.

There had to be an ending to this. There had to, because you weren't willing to give more, and slowly but surely, it felt like this was destroying you. The withdrawal, the craving for her, it was all becoming too much, and one of these days, you needed to stop, you needed to put an end to it.

One of these days, you would, but that day was not today.

*0*0*

Another year of more meetups, more sex, and suddenly, everyone thought the two of you were back together. You could see why. You knew why. The two of you did act like a couple. Hell, you spent more time with Quinn now than you had when the two of you were actually together all those years ago.

Only, now things were changing. Your time at Louisville was running out, graduation right around the corner, and then it was New York. You were going to New York, you were going to sleep on Rachel's couch until you could find somewhere to live permanently, and you were going to do something, anything, with the damn degree you had spent four years getting.

You were going to grow the fuck up, and in doing so, you needed to address the one thing that had been so wrong for so many years.

She had claimed you were both older and wiser now, and maybe it was time to prove that, maybe it was time to accept that fact. Yes, she had broken you, but you let her, because you gave up. You stopped trying, you didn't make it work, but things were different. You had seen her every second week for the last four months, and while that was a damn expensive two days together, you were making it work.

So yes, you were older and wiser, but you were also being young and immature in believing that you could go on with this and not fall back in love with her, not need her in every way, not hand over everything that you were to her in a simple kiss.

The realisation that maybe, just maybe, things with Quinn wouldn't blow up in your face this time was met with a relief you were not familiar with. It was as though this was the mental block, stopping all those bitter, hurt, upset feelings from flowing away. And with it gone, with that relief, you could finally see things clearly.

Older and wiser, indeed.

The wait until you saw Quinn again, this time round, was killer. You had thought of a million ways to talk to her, to tell her, to try and show her, but everything went out the window when she smiled that stunning smile of hers at you.

This time, you were in New Haven, in her apartment that you had come to know so well since this all began. Except, the only difference this time around, compared to all the others, was that for once, the two of you were fully dressed.

Normally, it was a mad rush of nakedness and fumblings to the bedroom. But you couldn't do that anymore, not yet, you couldn't let her think for one more second that she was only a simple fuck, one you couldn't give up on, but yet nothing more than that.

You needed her to know.

So you'd broken her kiss, pulled her from the door, and plucked up all the courage you had.

"Older and wiser," you murmured, feeling the nerves in the pit of your stomach, before pulling an envelope from your bag, and handing it over.

Quinn shot you a confused look, before opening the envelope, and then looking at you as if she really was losing her mind.

"Santana," she whispered, reading it over. There wasn't much to read, it was only a railpass, but it was proof enough of what was to come.

"Never again. Never again am I losing you," you began, before having to pause due to the slight flaw in your logic. "That's if you'll have me. I mean, I want to make this work this time around. It's no accident that we kept going back to each other, we did it for a reason, and now I know why, now I know that I wasn't ready then, but I am now, and I'm ready for my life with you so please, just, let's make this work." You looked at her like your life depended on it, and the small smile that played upon those lips you loved was like the first rays of sun after a harsh winter.

"I wondered when you'd catch up," Quinn replied, and you exhaled the breath you'd been holding with a smile. "What does it feel like to grow up and accept your feelings, instead of just ignoring them?" she teased.

"Shut up," you barked out, fighting a bigger smile.

"So New York?" she asked, and you nodded.

"New York. It's not New Haven, but-"

"But that doesn't matter," Quinn cut in, and then cupped your face in her hands, moving in to kiss you. And unlike all the others, all the rushed, hard, frenzied kisses, this one had promise, this one had a future beyond a few orgasms. "We'll make this work, because I don't want to lose you again, either."

And that, that was all you needed to know.

Louisville to New Haven might have been too hard for your young and immature self, but New York to New Haven was a piece of cake for your older and wiser self. You'd make it work. You'd do the hours of travelling, you'd get trains, planes, automobiles if you had to, just to stand outside her door and see the smile on her face when she saw it was you.

The sex had been the filler, it had been the only thing holding the two of you together, and thank god for that, because you could have lost her. You could have lost her, and in doing so, lost yourself; because Quinn, whether she knew it or not, helped you find who you were.

And apparently, you were deeply in love with her, to the point of no return. But, from the looks of things, so was she, so caught up in love with you that she had willingly put up with your shit until you could get on the same page. Knowing that, know that she hadn't given up on you, reaffirmed your conviction not to give up on her, on your relationship.

No, even if the distance was New York to Newfoundland or New Haven to New Delhi, you'd do it. You'd do it, and more, if it meant being on the receiving end of her kiss, of her mesmerising lips. You'd do it all for her, and her for you.

With a girl like her, the distance truly didn't matter one bit, and thank god you could finally see that.

Thank God.

*0*0*


End file.
